


there’s joy not far from here (right?)

by inkin_brushes



Series: Fucktoy AU (EXO) [11]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Master/Slave, Past Abuse, fucktoy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: Chen was dressed in loose linen pants and, unusually, a white shirt which he’d tucked haphazardly into his pants. It made him look quite young.





	

**Author's Note:**

> TODAY IN FICS I FINISHED IN OCTOBER AND NEVER POSTED. urgh man the feels i have for this pairing in this au. i could write books on the matter. perhaps i should. this takes place before [bend and (not) break](http://inkin-brushes.livejournal.com/70639.html). YAY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

Suho smothered a yawn against his palm, blinking at the clock in front of him. It was much later than he’d expected. He’d been more engrossed in his work than he’d realised, and somehow the time had slipped away from him. He shuffled his papers, gathering them into a pile; they could wait until the morning.

He stood, stretching his arms above his head, before he moved to the bed. He rubbed his shoulders and smothered another yawn. It had been a tough day, full of drills under the late summer sun, and it was still hot, although with the windows in his bedroom open there was a much needed breeze passing through. He rubbed idly at an ink mark on his wrist.

Surprisingly, Chen was still awake. He had chosen to retreat into the corner of the room, behind Suho’s desk, and was sitting cross legged on a pillow, his book open on his lap. As Suho watched him, he turned a page in his book, his forehead creased.

“Are you tired?” Suho asked.

Chen jumped, startled by his voice. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Come here,” Suho said gently.

Chen’s shoulders tensed a little. He turned another page in his book, marked his place, closed it, and then climbed to his feet slowly. He padded across the room on bare feet. He was dressed in loose linen pants and, unusually, a white shirt which he’d tucked haphazardly into his pants. It made him look quite young.

Suho snagged him by the wrist and tugged until Chen was in his lap, one of his hands resting lightly on Suho’s shoulder. He had a strange, unreadable expression on his face, which made Suho think he was about to make some comment. Instead, Chen was silent. 

Suho kissed the corner of his mouth. “You were quiet,” he said.

“I was reading,” said Chen.

Suho smiled. “Yes, but usually even then you have something to say.”

Apparently, this time, Chen didn’t. He stayed silent. Suho kissed him, soft, gentle kisses on his mouth. Chen stayed unresponsive until Suho cupped his cheeks and kissed a little more firmly. Chen finally kissed back, tentatively, gasping a little when Suho nibbled at his bottom lip, and Suho once more reflected on how strange it was that Chen had such relatively little kissing experience. 

Suho’s hands came up and hovered near the collar of Chen’s shirt. “I want to fuck you,” he murmured against Chen’s lips. 

He heard Chen’s breath hitch, his spine stiffening for a second. He pulled away and pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. Then he nodded his head, almost shyly. Suho kissed him again, harder, coaxing Chen’s mouth open, as he quickly undid the buttons on his shirt, pulling it from Chen’s shoulders so it dropped to the floor. 

Chen moved, shifting so his legs were either side of Suho’s hips. “Master,” he said, quietly. “Master, I—”

“Hmmm?” Suho tucked some of Chen’s hair behind his ear. “What?”

Chen shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning back in to kiss Suho, fingers pressing into Suho’s shoulders. Suho kissed him back languidly, taking his time, feeling the stress of the day melt away from his shoulders with each quiet whimper out of Chen’s mouth.

After a few minutes, Suho pulled away. Chen had his eyes shut still. Suho tapped his hip, waited for Chen to look at him, and then murmured, “Hands and knees, middle of the bed.”

Chen didn’t exactly scramble to obey, but obey he did. Suho raised an eyebrow at how compliant he was being. He grabbed a jar of lube from his side drawer and glanced back. “On second thoughts,” he said, more to test the waters than anything else, “down onto your elbows. Ass in the air.”

Chen grumbled something but nonetheless sank down onto his knees. Suho bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He climbed back onto the bed, tossing the lube to the side for now. He knelt behind Chen, who twisted his head to look at him, and ran a hand from the back of Chen’s neck to the hem of his pants, tugging them down just a little. A shiver ran down Chen’s spine.

“Maybe I’ll tie your hands together,” Suho muttered, more to himself than anything else. Chen squirmed. “But only if you’re bad. If you’re good, I might even touch you.”

“I — I—” Chen said, voice trembling.

“Shhh,” Suho said. He reached around to undo the ties on Chen’s pants. 

He was still reaching out when, without a word, Chen suddenly pitched forward onto the bed, like his limbs had given way. “Chen,” Suho said warningly, with a heavy sigh. He reached forward to take him by the hips, intent on pulling him back up into position. 

When Suho’s hands touched him, Chen gasped, flinching away in a way that made Suho snatch his fingers back. Chen pulled his arms and legs into himself, curling into a ball in the centre of the bed. He continued gasping, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut. His face was twisted in pain. He was visibly trembling all over.

“Chen,” Suho repeated, his voice now full of alarm. “Chen, what’s wrong. _Chen_.”

Chen continued to struggle for breath, his gasping coming quicker and quicker, his attempts more frantic and apparently more fruitless. Suho scrambled to his side, kneeling on the bed, hands hovering over Chen’s shoulders, unsure if he should touch him. He’d never seen Chen like this, he had seen his men have panic attacks before but this was different, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t want to touch him if it made things worse.

“Chen,” he murmured, hoping his voice could be enough. “Chen, look at me. It’s okay, just look at me.”

Chen managed to open his eyes, which was when Suho realised he was crying. The panic and fear in Chen’s eyes made Suho reach out and take his wrist. He curled his fingers around Chen’s palm, pressing his thumb to it soothingly. 

“I need you to breathe for me, okay?” he said softly. “Just breathe. It’s okay. You need to calm down and breathe for me.” He lifted Chen’s hand and pressed it, palm flat, against his own chest. He forced his breathing to regulate even through his own panic, taking deep, steady breaths. “Like this. Just copy me, okay, just copy me.”

He could feel Chen trying to pull his wrist away. Suho held his hand there, murmuring soothingly, encouraging him to breathe. Chen squeezed his eyes shut, chest shuddering. After a couple of moments, his fingers curled, fisting in Suho’s shirt, pulling the material tight. 

“Right,” said Suho reassuringly. He swiped his thumb across Chen’s cheekbone, wiping away tears. “Right, good, you’re doing so well. You’re going to be okay. It’s all okay.”

It seemed to take too long, seemed to take forever, Suho’s stomach rolling with fear and guilt, holding Chen’s hand to his chest to show him how to breathe properly, watching as Chen’s chest heaved erratically, but then slowly but surely evened out as he calmed down. By the time his hand unfisted from Suho’s shirt and he was breathing relatively normally again, he was pale, his face was streaked with tears, and his hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Suho helped him to sit up, giving him a little space before he sat opposite. Chen looked down at his bare ankles, still trembling. Suho cupped his face, using his thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. 

“I — I.” Chen fell silent. He looked up briefly, eyes skimming over Suho’s face, and then away. He chewed his bottom lip.

“It’s okay. I just want to know if you’re okay.” When an answer didn’t seem to be forthcoming, Suho slid off the bed and headed to the table at the side of the room, where he poured a glass of ice water. When he sat back down on the bed, Chen seemed to almost shy away from him. 

“Here,” Suho said, holding out the glass at a safe distance. “Drink this. It might make you feel better.”

Chen’s hands were shaking so hard that when he took the glass, he almost dropped and spilled it. In the end, Suho had to hold the glass up to his mouth and let him sip at it. Chen’s hands came up and held his wrist, his grip soft.

After Chen had sipped at it and seemed calmer — although he still didn’t seem _calm_ — Suho placed the water on the side table. Chen brought his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees, eyes looking everywhere but at Suho.

“What happened?” Suho asked gently. “Did I hurt you?” Chen shook his head lightly. “Did I do something wrong? Something that scared you?”

Chen shook his head again. Silently, Suho found Chen’s shirt from the floor and handed it to him. Chen wrapped it around his shoulders like it was a life-line of some sort. He seemed too scared to look at Suho.

Suho leaned across and kissed his forehead. Then he took Chen’s hands, holding them tight, concerned by the tremors he still felt in him. “Chen, if it’s something I did, you can tell me. I won’t be angry, I want to make sure I don’t do it again. I’ve told you that before.”

“Please,” Chen whispered. He tried to tug his hands out of Suho’s hold and this time Suho let him go. “I ...please don’t touch me, I just need to...”

“Of course,” Suho said, holding his hands up in what must have looked like a pretty pathetic attempt at being unthreatening. “Of course, whatever you need, just take your time.”

Chen played with the hem of his shirt, his head bowed so that his hair hung down, so that Suho could only see the curve of his nose and jaw. He seemed to be forcing himself to breathe as normally as possible, but none of the tension seemed to be draining from him. His shoulders were so tense it looked painful. 

After a couple of minutes of silence, Chen looked up. “Did you want to continue?” he asked, voice rough.

Suho gaped at him. “Continue? You mean with ...what we were doing? No, of course not, you just — you just had a panic attack!”

“I... but you wanted to.” Chen looked and sounded confused. “You wanted to fuck me.”

“Yes, I did. But then you—” A thought suddenly struck Suho. “You didn’t want me to fuck you, did you? You didn’t even want me to touch you.” Suddenly he was remembering the tension in Chen’s shoulders, the way he hadn’t kissed back for a long time, how his voice had trembled and how he had squirmed. Suho had put it down to Chen being his usual reluctant, somewhat bratty self, but now that he thought back, he’d been practically screaming his discomfort. How could he have missed that?

Chen mouthed something, drawing away from Suho. Suho wanted to reach out, wanted to tug him close, but he could see the tension in him, see the way he held himself, like he was preparing himself for exactly the sort of thing Suho wanted to do. The mere thought of Suho touching him was _scaring_ him. 

“If you don’t want me to do something,” Suho said quietly, “then you just have to tell me. If you truly don’t want me to — touch you, then you just have to tell me no.”

“You’re my master,” Chen said, confused and suspicious. “It’s your right to touch me, even if I don’t want you to.”

“I asked you,” Suho said, “just like I always do. When I ask you, it’s okay to say no, it’s okay, that’s why I ask.”

“And you would stop?” Chen raised an eyebrow. “If I said no, or asked you to, you would stop?” He sounded so skeptical that Suho had to remind himself that yes, they had definitely been through this exact topic before.

“Of course I would,” he protested. “If you asked, of course. Chen, you’re my — there are things that I know you don’t like, things I would never want to do. You can tell me no any time, I don’t have a right to your body.” Was it possible, Suho thought, his stomach rolling, that all this time Chen had only been saying yes because he thought he couldn’t say no?

“But you own me,” Chen said, sounding even more confused, and a little exasperated. “You bought me with your own money, if you want to fuck me, then you can fuck me, even if I tell you no. Even if I tell you not to touch me.”

Something in the way he said it, something in the disbelieving look on Chen’s face, something in the way he still held himself back from Suho, made Suho swallow hard and ask, “That wasn’t the first time you’ve had a panic attack, was it?”

“No,” said Chen bluntly.

“With me?”

Chen looked up, taking in Suho’s expression, and said, his voice softer, “No, not with you. But with other masters. Sometimes they happen.”

“And they — what did they do?”

“My old masters?” Chen cocked his head, looking at him hard. “What do you think? It’s their right to do whatever they want with me. Most of the time, they just continued fucking me.”

Suho knew it would be ridiculous to flinch, so he managed to stop himself, but he knew his horror must have been visible on his face. Chen was frowning, like he didn’t understand why Suho looked like he did. “But you,” Suho said, thinking of how Chen had gasped, how he had cried and been in pain, “you must have been so scared.”

“I — yes. I was scared.”

“But how could they do that?” Suho jumped up off the bed, walked to the side table and poured himself some water just to give his hands something to do. He felt agitated, and too angry. “How could they just ignore what was happening, you were — you couldn’t breathe, _I_ was scared, and you, I don’t even know how you felt—”

He stared at Chen expectantly. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Chen mumbled into his knees.

“What I — I don’t want you to, I don’t need you to say anything, Chen, I just, I’m so angry for you!”

“Honestly,” Chen said, pressing his face into his knees as if that could hide the thickness in his voice, “I think that they liked that I couldn’t breathe.”

Suho felt hold and cold all over. It was a very peculiar feeling. “What?”

“If I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t talk.” Chen brought his hands up and pressed his fingers to his temples. “If I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t talk back to them, I couldn’t tell them no, I couldn’t — I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t scream and embarrass them in front of their friends.”

Suho choked. “You mean — people — in front of other people?”

“I’ve told you,” Chen said quietly. “I don’t like it in public.”

“But I never thought — not like that, not in front of other people. And you—” Suho tried to rid of his head of the mental image of someone holding Chen down while he sobbed and struggled for breath, while he couldn’t scream or fight back, scared and alone while others watched on. He felt like throwing up, and certainly felt faint with anger. He dipped his fingers in his untouched glass of water and splashed some on his face.

“Chen,” he said, feeling like his voice was coming from far away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Chen asked, frowning. “You didn’t do it.”

“But you — you didn’t deserve that! How dare they do that?”

Chen shrugged, looking tired. “I was a bad toy.”

“Chen,” said Suho, horrified. He crossed the room again, scrambled onto the bed, and sat opposite him. He held his hands out, palms up, and after a moment of hesitation, Chen placed his palms on them. Suho squeezed his fingers. “Even if you were bad,” Suho told him, “you didn’t deserve that. Just like all those other things you’ve told me about, you didn’t deserve them.”

“But I was _bad_.”

“I don’t care,” Suho said, struggling to keep his voice even. It wouldn’t do to yell, it wouldn’t do to get angry; Chen would only think he was angry with him, and that wasn’t true, that couldn’t be further from the truth. “They should have stopped. They shouldn’t have done that.”

He could tell Chen didn’t understand. It was obvious from the way he’d spoken about it that he hadn’t liked what had happened, yet had taken it as just another punishment, just another sign that he was a bad toy. No wonder he’d always been so surprised at Suho’s hair tugging, light spanking, when he was used to being punished like _that_.

“Did you ever tell them no?” Suho asked quietly.

Chen closed his eyes for a second. “Once.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t like to think about it.” Suho made some soft noise. Chen reached over his shoulder, twisting so he could point out one particular scar amidst the patchwork on his back. “He gave me this for it.”

Suho took Chen’s hand again, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed the knuckles. Chen looked more surprised than Suho had ever seen him, and Suho thought he could see a faint pink flush across Chen’s cheeks. “Why—?”

“You can tell me no,” Suho said. “You can tell me no, you can tell me to not touch you, and I will not touch you. Do you understand?”

“No,” Chen whispered.

Suho looked at him helplessly. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Chen, I’m not going to — if you don’t want me to do something, then I won’t do it. I promise you.”

“I thought you would be angry,” Chen said. He wrenched his hands away. “I thought — why aren’t you angry? You should be angry! Why aren’t you punishing me for — I was bad, you know I was, why are you being so—”

He sounded close to hyperventilating again. “Chen,” Suho said, alarm rising, holding out his hands but not touching him. “Chen, calm down, it’s okay. I’m not going to punish you.”

“But why not? I was _bad_.”

“You weren’t,” Suho said simply.

Chen blinked. It was like he’d never even considered that. “But you wanted to — you wanted to fuck me, you’re my master and you wanted to fuck me, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t hold it together, that’s not what a toy is supposed to do.”

“Chen, you had a panic attack. It’s not your fault. I’m just sad that you felt like that in the first place. I want you to be able to tell me no, I want you to feel comfortable with me. Don’t — you don’t need to push yourself for my sake.”

“That’s not how a toy is supposed to _be_.”

“Who says?” Suho cocked his head to the side, his voice soft. “Why does a toy have to be any way in particular? Chen, when I tell you that you’re not a bad toy, I mean it. Sometimes you do bad things, sometimes you don’t listen to me or run your mouth too much and get us both into trouble. But you’re not _bad_.”

“I don’t please you,” Chen mumbled. 

“Chen!” said Suho, shocked. “Yes, you do.”

“I just make you angry.” Chen lay his head back on his knees. “All I do is make my masters angry. And then they hurt me.”

Suho didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen Chen like this, never seen him doubt himself. “Chen,” he said. “Please look at me.” Chen lifted his head slowly. Suho held out his hands for Chen to take if he wanted. “I’m not going to hurt you. Even if I get angry, I would — I would never do that. I can promise you this. And you — you do please me. You please me very much. You make me very happy, Chen. You do.”

Chen blinked at him. There was a long pause and then he reached out his hands and laid them lightly on top of Suho’s. Suho squeezed his fingers but didn’t do much more. “You’re really not angry?” Chen asked, squinting suspiciously at him.

“Of course not,” Suho said. 

“And you don’t — you don’t still want to—”

“No,” Suho said firmly. He leaned in and kissed Chen’s forehead gently. “I think it’s better for both of us if we go to bed.”

Chen drew his fingers out of Suho’s hold. His eyes flicked to the end of the bed. “I,” he began, and then stopped, his mouth clamping shut almost fearfully.

“What is it?” Suho asked gently, encouragingly. “I won’t get angry. I’d rather you tell me what you want.”

“I want to sleep in my own room,” Chen admitted, hands twisting into the sheets. “I’d like to be alone, just for tonight, I just want — I need to think, I want to—”

“Shh,” Suho murmured. “It’s okay. You can sleep in your room if you want. I’ll walk with you.” Chen’s shoulders slumped a little in relief. Suho helped him off the bed, holding his hands while Chen tried to get his balance on legs that were still a little shaky. 

“I know the way,” Chen said, a little of his usual sarcastic drawl making its way back into his voice. 

“I know,” Suho said simply. That wasn’t it. He couldn’t be sure that Chen wouldn’t take Suho’s easy acquiesce to leave as a sign of anger. He couldn’t be sure of anything, to be honest. Every time he thought he knew all he could know about Chen, there was another layer to be uncovered. 

They made the walk in silence, Chen falling behind Suho like he thought that was the place he should take. It would have made Suho laugh — Chen had never shown much interest in that before — if it weren’t for the circumstances. Suho paused just outside Chen’s bedroom, turning to face him. Chen’s eyes were swollen and red, his face blotchy, but he seemed like he had calmed down considerably. 

“Sleep well,” Suho said softly. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Chen’s cheek. When he pulled away Chen was blinking at him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I— yes.” Chen had a queer look on his face, but he didn’t explain it. He nodded once, shortly, his eyes fixed on Suho like he couldn’t quite believe he was real, and then he disappeared into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him quickly but quietly. 

Suho sighed, a lump forming in his stomach. He turned and began the trek back to his room. He hoped Chen managed to sleep, because he doubted he would be getting any himself.


End file.
